


if i can only touch you in secret, know your love touches me wherever i go

by katiamarkovitch



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Sex, POV Multiple, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, past sex mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiamarkovitch/pseuds/katiamarkovitch
Summary: He had to apologize. Ben knew, more than most, how much the General cared for the men under his command. He had seen, some of the more private moments after reports with more deceased and injured than alive. It was him who had held the General in his arms after news of Robert Rogers, and his troop. George had been the one who had striped him, so gently, pressing feverish kisses to the scar.After Sackett's death Ben and Washington talk.I didn't think they really touched on the effect of Sackett's death on Ben, and the way he reacted to Washington. This is what I think could've happened.





	if i can only touch you in secret, know your love touches me wherever i go

He could still feel the warmth of Nathaniel Sackett’s blood on his hands. He could still hear the shuttering gasps and cries as the man died in his arms. A sizable bloodstain on his uniform had turned the previously spotless blue a dark brown, although his hands had turned red from scrubbing. Ben knew he couldn't blame Washington for this, it was his job to figure things like this out, in time to be stopped. Ben had heard Shank’s mention Gamble, and it was Ben who had decided to ignore the name, focusing only on André. It took Ben too long to figure out that Washington wasn't the target, but their information. He was the goddamn chief intelligence officer and didn't even consider the possibility that the British Army was looking for intelligence. Nathaniel Sackett death was his fault, just as much as it was Gamble’s, if not more. 

No, to blind you, sir. If you had let me do my job. . . .

Had he really said that? Ben ran a hand through his hair, the braid coming undone underneath his fingertips. Shite. He had seen the pallor of the General’s face, seen how his words had wrecked the man. How could Ben do that to a person who was barely at fault? How could Ben do that when it was clearly his own, the blood on his hands to prove it. 

He had to apologize. Ben knew, more than most, how much the General cared for the men under his command. He had seen, some of the more private moments after reports with more deceased and injured than alive. It was him who had held the General in his arms after news of Robert Rogers, and his troop. George had been the one who had striped him, so gently, pressing feverish kisses to the scar.

He couldn’t let an innocent man suffer for his crimes. Ben inhaled and slowly, brushing this hair back behind his ears he stood, clutching the damaged coat in his hands. It made his stomach turn when he put the uniform on, the blood stain marring the place above his heart. How appropriate.

The trip from his tent to Washington’s was short, even when he wasn't focused on the way his hands shook when he passed the intelligence tent. The sun had set soon after Ben had carried Mr. Sackett’s body to the cemetery, and now the camp was bathed in soft moonlight, only blemished by the occasional flicker of a candle. 

Too quickly, Ben stood in front of Washington’s guardsmen, and without realizing it, he had already whispered a request to enter. If his presence at the General’s tent at such a late hour was odd neither of the men hinted at it. Both knew enough about their relationship that allowed Ben to slip unnoticed into the Generals tent. Soon enough the soldier returned, holding the tent flap open with his arm. 

The tent was washed with a soft golden light, illuminating Washington’s features from where he sat, at the chair farthest from Ben. His face gave nothing away, hiding any thoughts from the Major. 

That hurt. 

It had been awhile since the General had hidden his true feelings from Ben.  
Weather it was a faint smirk, tilt of the head, or even as much as a twinkle in his eye, Ben had always had some form of an idea of what was going on inside of the older man’s head. 

“Major Tallmadge, I am glad you came to see me.” Washington’ s voice was devoid of emotion, its absence making Ben feel all kinds of cold and empty inside. “I also have something I would like to speak to you about.” 

“Yes sir.”

Washington clenched his jaw, his knuckles tightening on the edge of the table. Was he going to hit Ben? The thought sent waves of fear through him, and Ben couldn’t stop himself from taking a step back. George would never hurt him. His mind supplied every touch, every kiss, every moan, and every secret they had shared. It wouldn’t matter if he were punched, Ben realized, it was the least he deserved for Mr Sackett. 

“You were out of line, earlier today. You had no right to call me, your superior, out on a matter that was nearly impossible to figure out.” Washington was watching him, those clear eyes flickering across his face. This was unlike any other time. These glances made hi skin crawl with pain, not pleasure. Ben cleared his throat, tightening the grasp on his hands, held respectively behind his back.

“Yes sir.” 

Washington’s handsome face was suddenly impaired by a frown, depending the lines on his forehead. “Even so, you were the one to learn the true nature of the assassination attempt first, were you not?” It seemed the General already know the answer to this, because he continued on. “If you knew of this, why didn’t you alert your commander?”

Ben opened his mouth, attempting to defend himself, attempting to tell Washington that their was no time. That he figured it out to late, that he didn’t want to be late, but he was-.

“Nathaniel Sackett died because of a miscommunication. If the appropriate measures had been followed, his death could have been avoided.” If Washington had continued to speak, Ben no longer had the knowledge of what was going on around him, the waves of self loathing threatening to swallow him whole. 

Ben could feel his heart skip a beat, could feel the air rush from his lungs. The world seemed to be moving to quickly for him to think, and to his horror, he could feel the backs of his eyes begin to burn. He killed Mr. Sackett. George knew he killed Mr. Sackett. Ben feared that if he didn’t say something, he would never get a chance to, and against his better judgement, he allowed himself to speak.

“I agree, your excellency.” 

Washington froze, the any words he may have said to console the man infant of him dying on his tongue. Before he had spoken, George hadn't known how his Major would've reacted to his statement. If he had, nothing in the world could’ve made him say those words. 

George had watched Major Tallmadge’s, Benjamin’s eyes widen, the beautiful blue of the iris’ fading into a slate grey. Benjamin’ suffering flooded the tent with such a ferocity it took George’s breath away, bringing tears to his eyes. 

What had he done to his Major?

“What is it you agree with, Benjamin?” Although he had called the younger man by his given name before, it still made George’s chest warm, and his lips spark. His major startled at this, head whipping up to look at George. Benjamin’s eyes were rimmed with red, his skin almost translucent. It hurt Washington to look at him.

“I-. Mr. Sackett’s death was my fault, not yours.”

Even though George wanted to interrupt, Benjamin looked fragile enough that is he did not say this he would break, so George held his tongue. 

“If I had figured it out sooner, he would still be here. I knew, the name Gamble, and had heard straight from Shank that he was apart of the assassination.” Benjamin’s voice broke here, and it drove a skewer of pain through his chest. A single tear slid down his Major’s face, and with a shaking hand, Ben wiped it away. “I couldn’t even consider the possibility that they were looking for information, and if I knew that I could've saved him. I don’t deserve the title of Chief Intelligence Officer if I can’t even do my job!” 

Swiftly, George stood, taking Benjamin by the arm and setting him on their bed. He wrapped his cloak around the both of them, then pulled Benjamin into his chest. “Thats enough of that.” He whispered into his Major’s hair, tightening his arms when the younger an let out a soft cry. 

“You said-.” Benjamin floundered slightly in George’s arms, eventually situating himself so that they could see each others faces, but were still tangled together in a way that made it impossible to tell where one began and another ended. George could see Benjamin’s eyelashes clumped together, and the small dent on his lip from biting it. 

“It was not your fault.” Benjamin’s face crumpled, and in an attempt to stop the sobs from escaping he pressed his fist into his mouth. George felt his eyes water, the pain of seeing his beloved in so much agony becoming to much for him. 

“No-no, I s-should’ve-.” 

“Benjamin, It was not your fault.” Gently, George took Benjamin’s hands in his own, tracing light patterns in the skin. When his major protested, he shushed Benjamin’s shivery words, allowing the younger man to fully break down into his chest. Although the wrecked sounds coming from his love made George cry himself, he only murmured into Benjamin’s ear, turning his own face into his majors hair to hide his tears. 

Soon, the younger man tired himself out, leaving him hiccuping softly into George’s neck. This was so different from the kisses and love marks the younger man had left their, only a few days prior, but felt even more intimate.

“I love you.” George could feel the words on the skin below his jaw, along with a light flutter on wet eyelashes. He turned Benjamin, so he could see those ocean blue eyes, blinking owlishly up at him with such honesty it took his breath away. 

Even though that had both said those words before, it was different this time. It mattered more than ever, and George felt his chest swell. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Benjamin, even if it meant only being able to touch him at night, hidden from the world.

“And I you.” 

The kiss they shared was soft, tender in a way that made his heart feel as if it would burst from his chest. George could taste the tears on Benjamin’s lips, and brought a hand up to the back of his majors neck, squeezing gently. In response, the fingers on his shirt tightened, pulling them closer. 

In this moment, surrounded by men that could hang them for espionage, tear them apart for a crime as simple as loving the wrong person, the blood of a friend spilled nearly a few feet away. In this moment where the dimming candle flickered in Benjamin’s eyes, the only thing George could taste was love, and it was all he would ever need.


End file.
